


Just Take My Breath Away, Why Don't You

by Sub_Zero_MKA



Series: Why Is Romance So Hard? [4]
Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: A lot of kissing, F/M, Kissing, Michelle is head over heels, Peter is actually pretty smooth, So is forethought and self-control, consent is important, high school romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 14:56:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11853927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sub_Zero_MKA/pseuds/Sub_Zero_MKA
Summary: "No more. Michelle had had enough of her brainpower just evaporating the moment Peter's lips touched hers. She had to put a stop to all of these surprise kisses. But, how?The answer came to her so quickly, it was startling. She was going to set a trap for him, and then teach him a lesson he would never forget. It was a little concerning that this was the second time she considered trapping Peter as if he was a wanted criminal. He is a wanted criminal, she thought to herself. He stole my heart. God, I wanna fucking puke."Michelle is probably falling in love with Peter, but is not in love with his habit of kissing her by surprise. So, she concocts a plan to make him see the error of his problematic ways. That plan nearly leads to a life-altering mistake.





	Just Take My Breath Away, Why Don't You

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea at work one day last week and had to put it on paper. I'm pretty sure the ending doesn't cross the line into mature. Anyway, it's so much fun writing Peter and MJ snarking at each other. Hope you guys enjoy

_**Just Steal My Breath Away, Why Don't You** _

 

It had been two weeks since that fateful night on the rooftop. Michelle and Peter had been, not dating, but rather spending more time together. They had been on two more dates since their first one at the Greek restaurant – a movie night at Peter's apartment where they binged watched the first three Lord of the Ring movies, and then watched Game of Thrones at Michelle's apartment two nights later. Everything was going well, far better than Michelle thought it would.

 

She had come a long way since her chest-punching, phone-stealing days of yonder weeks ago. She would never admit it without first being subjected to the most heinous torture methods ever concocted, but she actually really enjoyed Peter's company. He was one of the few people she knew who could match her wit for wit – when he wasn't busy stuffing his foot in his mouth – and possessed an earnestness that she really found endearing. He genuinely cared about her, and deep down, she cared about him.

 

It was all great. Now, if only she could get him to stop kissing her without permission, everything would be perfect.

 

One four different occasions, Peter Parker had the balls, the nerve, the unmitigated gall to plant his lips on hers without even so much as a head's up. The first time was in front of her apartment door right before they departed for their first date.

 

In hindsight, she should have seen it coming. The moment he laid eyes on her, his eyes glazed over and filled with what she assumed was unbridled passion. Time was moving so slowly, that she should have had plenty of time to move out of the way when he started leaning toward her. But, she didn't. She stayed stocked still because, truthfully, she had no idea what he was about to do. It was like turning around and watching a ball hurtle toward her face. She saw it coming from a mile away, but her brain was too shocked to do anything about it.

 

Peter snatched the air out of her lungs and held it for ransom for the rest of the night. She sat on her sofa for a good five minutes trying to collect herself, and only just managed to regain some of the apathetic aloofness that she was famous for.

 

He had no idea what he had done to her that night. With one kiss, every ounce of resolve she had to drift through the motions of the date, only doing just enough so he could enjoy himself, melted away. She even complimented his smile! She, literally, rarely complimented him on anything. When she said it, she fought the urge to look around because surely someone else said that.

 

Nope. It was her. The worst part? She meant it. She really did think Peter had the cutest smile she had ever seen.

 

She may have seen the first one coming, but the next three came right out of left field. The next one came at lunch that following Monday.

 

 

> _For once, Michelle was early for lunch. Well, early for her. She usually liked to wait until the 'starving' masses all got their food so she wouldn't a) have to wait in a long ass line, and b) wait in line full of smelly, hormonal simpletons. Not today, though. She endured the long line full of smelly simpletons so she could get her lunch and be sitting at the table with Peter. She secretly wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. They didn't see each other again the entire weekend after their date, but they talked and texted nonstop._
> 
>  
> 
> _She didn't want to admit it, but she was falling for him. Hard. She didn't even know what exactly endeared him to her so much. His sense of humor? His intelligence? His smile? The way his eyes lit up when he saw her? The way he gave her his rapt attention when she talked about something she cared about? All of the above? Who knew? She sure didn't._
> 
>  
> 
> _She sighed and let her tray full of salad, fruit, and a bag of kettle chips fall onto the table with a loud smack. Ned jumped up, eyes wide. “Whoa, MJ. What are you doing here?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Running a marathon. Where's Peter?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Ned smirked knowingly. “He had to stay after class to finish a test. He'll be here soon, I think.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _You mean I breathed in odious amounts of male BO and female gossip for nothing?” She scoffed and slumped down into her chair. “So, how goes life?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Great, actually. I got a 97% on my algebra exam, and I talked to Betty today. Pretty sweet, actually.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She assumed he had a crush on Betty Brant, one of their decathlon teammates, if he felt the need to mention that. She didn't care, but he did, so she flashed him a thumbs up._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _So, I heard the date went great on Friday.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She looked up to find Ned grinning cheekily at her. “What did Peter tell you?”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Oh nothing. Only that you said he was cute.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _I didn't say he was cute,” she corrected, obviously affronted at the slander. “I said he had a cute smile.” A second later, she touched her forehead. That totally was not a necessary thing to say. There was no need to look at Ned to know that he was barely containing his laughter. “One word and I'll kill you.” There was no way anyone would believe that was a threat, given the lackluster way she said it._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Oh, sure, MJ. Whatever you say.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _You'd better be glad my energy reserves are critically low, or I'd beat the shit out of you.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Ned laughed, which, to her absolute chagrin, made her chuckle a little._
> 
>  
> 
> _A few minutes passed when Peter finally decided to show up. Michelle felt a twinge of excitement in her chest and fought the urge to fix her hair and make sure she looked presentable for her ~~boy~~ friend. “Sup, nerd.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Hey, MJ.” Peter's arm wrapped around her shoulder and tugged her closer. If that wasn't bad enough, he leaned in and planted a short, but electric kiss on her lips._
> 
>  
> 
> _Without her expressed written consent, mind. She would have smacked him for that, but her brain was too busy rebooting. So, instead, she sat there, staring blankly into the void._
> 
>  
> 
> _Ned, who had never witnessed a Peter Parker/Michelle Jones kiss in his entire life, didn't so much spit-take as he just let the juice dribble out of his stupefied gawp and onto the table._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _You alright, MJ?” Peter asked with a tone that just screamed that he knew damn well she wasn't and was just rubbing it in at this point._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _...,” she snarled, followed by a thunderous, “...”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Peter smiled that adorable smile of his and started eating his fries._

 

Michelle didn't recover until the next period. Even then, she was off. Quiet. She was too busy tasting his lips on her own to pay any attention to the morons 'teaching' her classes. God, this boy.

 

The third time was when they were watching _The Fellowship of the Ring_ at his apartment.

 

 

> _May was in her bedroom meditating, and they were in the living room on the sofa. Ned was sitting on the floor, completely enraptured by Evangeline Lilly's character. She was okay, if she was being honest. Certainly not hot enough for Ned to be drooling like an idiot. Then again, slap a wig on a dog and Ned would start drooling._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _How ya liking it?” Peter whispered in her ear for some reason._
> 
>  
> 
> _An ice cold chill shot up her spine. She cleared her throat. “It's boring. The books are better,” she answered succinctly._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Figured you'd say that. Just wait until you see Gandalf.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders again and rubbed her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “Your skin is really soft.”_
> 
>  
> 
> “ _You're such a creep.” Her face felt hot. Both from his touch and from just being so close to him. It felt right being near him. She turned to face him so she could say more, only to be met by his lips pressing against hers._
> 
>  
> 
> _Just like that, all the feeling in her body flew out the window. For the third time, he had caught her by surprise with one of these kiss things, and for the third time, her breath was stolen. The kiss was broken, but she could still feel the pressure of his lips against hers. It felt like there was a small current of electricity still running through her lips._
> 
>  
> 
> _She loved it, relished in it. She wanted more, but she didn't know how to ask. Of course, she could have just kissed him back. She had done it twice – and she was pretty sure they had the same effect on him that his did on her. But, that wasn't the Michelle Jones Way©. Michelle didn't just make out with a guy for no reason – even if said guy was her friend that happened to be a boy and was someone she was incredibly attracted to. She had principles and standards to live up to._
> 
>  
> 
> _Their eyes met, and a spark formed between them. If Ned hadn't been there, she would have said to hell with her standards and ripped Peter's clothes off right then and there. Her heart was beating in her ears like a tribal drum. Her hormones and teenage hunger for the opposite sex were dangerously close to overriding her common sense. “You're an asshole,” she whispered._
> 
>  
> 
> _He grinned. “Takes one to know one.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _God, she ~~loved~~ liked this boy._
> 
>  

The most recent time was just yesterday, at decathlon practice of all places. It was a good thing they were the only two in the classroom, or else she would have actually committed murder that day. The people who witnessed the kiss, not Peter, of course.

 

 

> _Today, Michelle felt like being the first one to practice. She liked to alternate between being first and just arriving before practice began. She still didn't know what point she was trying to make, but she supposed it was to keep everyone on their toes._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Hey, you're early today,” Peter commented when he walked inside. Because of course he was the second person there. It was like her life was one contrived coincidence after another._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _So it would seem.” She watched him set his bag down, then open it and start rummaging through it. She stood and walked over to him. “Hey, think I'm gonna grill Flash on something obscure shit, like social science.” She smirked when he gave an exaggerated shudder._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _Better him than me.” He set the book he was looking for down on his desk. “You look cute today, by the way. Is that a new shirt?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She quirked an eyebrow. “No. I just ironed it this morning.” She would probably never get used to this whole getting called cute thing. Not that she didn't think she was; it was just that she was supposed to be a wallflower. She couldn't be a wallflower if someone noticed how good-looking she was. “Thanks, though.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _It was a good thing no one else was there, because if anyone else saw how quickly and easily two hands on her waist disabled her normally high defenses, she would probably die of embarrassment. “You're welcome,” he whispered._
> 
>  
> 
> _How? Why? She couldn't voice any opposition to the obvious action he was about to take before he planted his lips on her. The previous kisses had been quick and somewhat shallow compared to this one._
> 
>  
> 
> _Oh boy, this kiss. It was like the super passionate kiss at the climax of a romance movie – deep, passionate, and with a lot of noises that Michelle was not proud that she was making. Peter pulled her closer to him, letting their bodies coalesce into one salubrious muddle._
> 
>  
> 
> _Michelle wanted to resist, she really did. She wanted to pull away and yell and scream that Peter couldn't just grab her and smooch all over her whenever he felt like it. It wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. He needed her permission first, she felt, and he bypassed that. These sneak attacks weren't going to fly._
> 
>  
> 
> _She wanted to say that. What she did was feebly fist at his collar before succumbing to her baser instincts. She melted into his embrace, letting her arms fly around his neck to bring him closer._
> 
>  
> 
> _Peter broke the kiss and touched his forehead to hers. “Wow.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _'Fuck you,' was what she wanted to say, but nothing but a soft exhale came out. Rendered speechless once again. It was as annoying as it was concerning. If he could break her down this easily, with nothing but a kiss, how was she going to react when the heavier stuff came along?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Also, why was Peter such a good kisser? Like, how did he become this good?_
> 
>  
> 
> _Dazed, Michelle backed away. She was far enough away that Mr. Harrington didn't suspect anything when he stepped inside. “Ah. Team captain and team MVP are the first two here. That's what I like to see,” he beamed._
> 
>  
> 
> “ _It's no problem at all, Mr. Harrington,” Peter shrugged as if they hadn't just made out for a good minute. “We have to set a good example for the other members. Right, MJ?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Michelle just looked at him and nodded limply._
> 
>  
> 
> _This bastard had just eroded her edge in a matter of moments. She planned on embarrassing Flash with a bevy of tough questions that he would in no way know the answers to. Now, she would have been lucky if she remembered how to talk._
> 
>  
> 
> _The others trickled in one by one. She watched them from her seat, index cards clutched tightly in her hands. Across from her, Peter was watching her, the same stupid grin on his face. It was so innocent and that pissed her off._
> 
>  
> 
> _She leaned forward and mouthed, 'I am going to murder you'._
> 
>  
> 
> _The grin turned into a smirk as he winked at her._
> 
>  
> 
> _That sent tingles in a place she really wished it hadn't._
> 
>  
> 
> _God, this boy was going to be the death of her._

 

No more. Michelle had had enough of her brainpower just evaporating the moment Peter's lips touched hers. She had to put a stop to all of these surprise kisses. But, how?

 

The answer came to her so quickly, it was startling. She was going to set a trap for him, and then teach him a lesson he would never forget. It was a little concerning that this was the second time she considered trapping Peter as if he was a wanted criminal. _He is a wanted criminal,_ she thought to herself. _He stole my heart. God, I wanna fucking puke._

 

* * *

 

Two days passed, and Michelle was finally ready to put her plan into motion. It was simple, really. All she was going to do was coax him into wanting to kiss her, stop him from doing so, then reasonably ask him not to do it again. Simple. It couldn't fail. Which, of course, meant that something was going to go horribly wrong along the way.

 

She spent plenty of time dolling herself up. She combed out her hair and used some of her mom's hairspray to make her curls all full and luscious. She even put on red lip stick and some perfume. Originally, she planned on wearing something 'sexy', but decided against it. Peter would immediately know something was up; either that or have a stroke and keel over. Instead, she was wearing a simple pair of shorts and a tank top. Something she was sure he would appreciate much more, anyway.

 

Before school ended the day before, she invited him over to her place to watch Netflix again. Her mother was at work, so there wouldn't be any undue distractions. “Alright, my face looks good. Hair, check. I smell nice. Everything's good.” She breathed in deeply to calm the furious nerves buzzing in her stomach.

 

Why was she so nervous? She was just going to check Peter on his problematic behavior; something she had done many, many times in the past. So, what made this time so different? That he might take it the wrong way? “I mean, he's smart. He'll get where I'm coming from. Besides, it's not like I'm wrong.”

 

A sharp knock at the door jolted her to attention. “Shit, that's him.”

 

She hurried to the door, then casually leaned against the adjacent wall before opening it. “Sup, nerd.” She smirked when Peter gasped quietly.

 

He was wearing one of those polo shirts that she was certain was intentionally a size too small. It took all her willpower not to stare. Okay, she stared a little, but that was it.

 

“Hey,” he greeted breezily. “I-I got this for you.” He presented a single rose to her.

 

It literally looked like he plucked it from someone's garden on the way over and it was the sweetest thing he had given her since that pillow. “Thanks.” It smelled like a rose. She wasn't exactly sure what she was expecting, but the gesture seemed appropriate.

 

“You're welcome. Can I come in?”

 

She shrugged. “Sure. It's a free country.” Her lips curled into a titillating smirk when he brushed by her. Thankfully, she repressed the shudder that nearly overtook her. That would have undermined her entire operation.

 

“So, I was thinking we could watch the third Iron Man documentary. You know, the one where they dramatize how he saved the President,” he suggested. He sat down on her sofa. “I know you love RDJ and Don Cheadle.”

 

She did love RDJ, but didn't love him that much. Her eyes rolled. “Ugh. As if I don't hear about that enough from his #1 fanboy. SI's PR department never rests.”

 

“Well, he _is_ an American hero, so...”

 

Peter always got so offended when people talked shit about Tony Stark. Like, it wasn't even that big a deal, yet he took it so personally. It was actually pretty hilarious. “So is Steve Rogers, so...”

 

He rolled his eyes and patted the sofa. “Come on, take a load off. I don't bite.”

 

_Mission is a go._ She sauntered over to the sofa – or, at least she felt that it was sauntering – and slid down next to him, making sure to bump arms with him. On cue, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I would hope not. I might be allergic to spider bites.”

 

“Well, I'll be sure to keep my teeth to myself.”

 

“That was so stupid,” she laughed.

 

He huffed in annoyance. “No, it wasn't. It was smooth.”

 

“You're, like, the exact opposite of smooth.”

 

“Oh, really?” he responded challengingly. “I can think of a few times when I was pretty suave.”

 

“Oh?” Her lips pursed slightly as she peered down at him. “And what times would those be?”

 

His eyes flicked down to her lips, then glazed over with that same inflamed passion as before. It didn't take much to turn a boy on, that was for sure. “Oh, you know,” he said quietly, and somewhat absently.

 

“I do?”

 

“Yeah.” Slowly, he started to lean toward her. As she predicted he would. It didn't take nearly as long as she thought it would; clearly she either underestimated her ability to seduce someone like Peter, or severely overestimated his self-control. Either way, her plan was about to enter phase two.

 

One small problem, though. She kind of didn't want to stop him. She knew that if she wanted to set matters straight, now was the time to do it. She also knew that she really, _really_ enjoyed those kisses.

 

In the end, common sense and the plan prevailed over hormones. “Wait, stop.”

 

He immediately snapped out of his stupor and drew back. “What's wrong?”

 

“You need to stop,” she started before stopping suddenly. Because she realized that she had no idea how to word this. The wrong way and he would definitely get the wrong idea, and she did not want that. When he frowned heavily, clearly confused, she realized that she had to say something else. “I mean, you need to cool it with the surprise kisses and shit, dork.”

 

“Surprise?”

 

“Like, kissing me without warning. I mean, I know I'm irresistible to you, and that's cool, but seriously, a little head's up would be appreciated.” Michelle didn't know what she was so worried about. This was going much better than she thought it would.

 

The confusion didn't last very long. “Tired of having your breath stolen, I see,” he said with a self-satisfied smirk.

 

This little bastard. “As if,” she scoffed.

 

“So, you like having your breath stolen?”

 

_Damn it._ “I'd be better able to answer that once you actually accomplish that feat. Until then, no more kissing me without my consent. Got that?”

 

“Fair enough.” He flipped over to the stupid Iron Man documentary. “Will you give it? If I ask.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

And that was that.

 

Fifteen minutes into the documentary, to which Michelle paid no attention, Peter started giving her this look. It wasn't amorous, or even that glazed over stare, but rather mischievous. Her suspicions were raised when he pulled her a little closer to him. “So, you enjoy looking pretty for me?” he had the nerve to ask.

 

“Excuse you?”

 

“I mean the hair, the lipstick, the perfume. It looks nice. And it feels nice knowing you're doing it for me.”

 

“Asshole.” It only just then occurred to her that the facet of her plan that require her to look more conventionally beautiful actually needed an explanation. One she completely failed to come up with. “I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for myself.” That would convince him.

 

“Oh, really?”

 

“Yes, really.”

 

“On a night you knew I was coming over? Interesting.”

 

If there was one thing Michelle hated more than most other things, it was being called out on her bullshit. It happened so rarely that when it did happen, it always irritated her immensely. Thus far, only her mother had been able to accomplish such a feat. For this nerd to see right through her was... startling? Annoying? Impressive? All of the above, evidently. “Not particularly. I just wanted to look cute.”

 

He smirked and raised his eyebrows. “I see.”

 

“Smartass. Explain that shirt you're wearing.”

 

And the smug demeanor evaporated as quickly as a drop of water in the hot skillet. “Um... uh... this was my only clean one.”

 

“You don't wash clothes?”

 

“I do. But, not today, so I had no choice but to wear this one.” He shrugged, which stressed the fabric around his shoulders. Her eyes zeroed in on the twin bulges.

 

“You've known you were coming over since yesterday, yet you failed to make sure you had a clean shirt of a reasonable size to wear? Interesting.”

 

“Not particularly. I just wanted to look cute.”

 

“Well, you do,” she stated matter-of-factly, as if answering an equation in algebra.

 

“Thanks. You, too.”

 

“You said that already.”

 

“I know. But, I think you should hear it all the time, because it's always true.”

 

Just when Michelle thought she had Peter figured out, he went and said something like this. She sighed and laid her head in his chest. “I hate you.”

 

She wondered if he realized what he was doing to her. If he wasn't careful, he might mess around and make her fall in love with him. And wouldn't that have been tragic?

 

Thirty more minutes passed, filled by the comfortable silence of Peter watching the documentary with rapt attention. Well, semi-rapt; he also preoccupied himself with rubbing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. It felt so weird; she swore she could feel small hairs on his thumb. She guessed that was how he stuck to walls and stuff.

 

“Hey, MJ?” he said, breaking the silence.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“This permission thing you want. How should I go about it?”

 

A pertinent question, she supposed. “Just make it obvious what you plan on doing. Don't, like, kiss me just as I'm turning around. Like you did at lunch that one time.”

 

“Gotcha. So, like, hey, I'm gonna kiss you now.”

 

“I mean, you don't have to actually say anyth—” She was a second too slow. She had to admit, that was pretty smooth. By the time her brain registered what he said, Peter had already pressed his lips against hers, slowly and deeply.

 

This wasn't a chaste little peck on the lips, nor was it hormone-crazed kiss that started a impromptu makeout session. It was a slow, deliberate kiss that always proceeded a night of passionate sex. Or, at least that was how it went in the romance novels Michelle honestly didn't read. Even if she hadn't, it was obvious even to her what was about to happen.

 

She was in no position to stop it. Not that she wanted to. She had been dreaming of this moment for years, and now that it was finally coming true, there was nothing that was going to stop her.

 

The next several minutes seemed to blur together in a frenzy of kissing and groping. At some point, she moved over to straddle his lap. They separated only long enough for her to rip his shirt and undershirt over his head and toss them somewhere across the room.

 

_You know, this is a bad idea._ Her brain was fully aware that the direction they were hurtling toward wasn't a good one, but her body wasn't hearing it. It was too great. Peter's body was too hard for her to not see more of it. It just didn't make any sense. He already had his shirt off; what harm would losing his pants do?

 

“MJ,” Peter whispered huskily. “You're so fucking beautiful.”

 

She smiled and grabbed his face to pull him into another kiss. _Yo, like seriously. Stop, Michelle._ Peter's hands slid up the back of her shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. _Stop, Michelle. Stop!_

 

“Ugh.” She broke the kiss and touched her forehead. “Hey, my brain is being a total dick right now. Can I take a timeout?”

 

“Um, okay.”

 

She stood and walked around the back of the sofa. “You are so lucky, dweeb.” Could she even call him a dweeb at this point? He had been acting like the exact opposite of a dweeb the entire night.

 

“I know.” She could hear the want in his voice. The want for her and only her that sent a chill up her spine and made her stomach all fluttery. “Come back so we can both get lucky.”

 

She sighed. That offer was so tempting, he didn't even know. “Idiot. I bet you don't even have a condom, do you?” Silence, followed by a disheartened groan. “Didn't think so. You're so lucky.”

 

“MJ, I'm sorry.”

 

“Don't be. I mean, I really wanted to... go all the way. But, we're gonna do it the right way. Okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

With that thankfully settled without any argument, Michelle walked about around and sat down on the sofa. His shirt remained on the floor on the other side of the room. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck.

 

“So, can I have my shirt back?”

 

“Not a chance.”

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> In my headcanon, MCU movies exist in the MCU in the form of documentaries. Because these events are too big to not make documentaries about.


End file.
